


All I Want for Christmas is You

by breejah



Series: 'Quick Fic/Photo Prompt' Labyrinth Challenges [15]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Christmas Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sex, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 16:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breejah/pseuds/breejah
Summary: Sneaking into Sarah's home as she decorates for the holidays, Jareth spots a letter to himself with the beginning words of 'I'm so sorry.' Deciding to wait until morning to hear the rest of it, he wakes up to a rather off way of Sarah admitting her feelings.Pure Christmas Smut.Part One was inspired by a photo prompt, Part Two is pure smut and a little bickering. (Because who doesn't like wild make up sex?) Rated M.





	1. Chapter 1

                                                                    

_Photo prompt art by Iaoan._

* * *

 

When he’d arrived - in red velvet no less - with eight little goblin minions in tow, he hadn’t known what to expect when he confronted her. He had heard from the dwarf that she was decorating for Christmas and despite wanting nothing more than to crash her little party for one and teach her a lesson or two, this was not what he was expecting at all.

They had seen each other over the years, of course, when she’d travel to the outskirts of the Labyrinth and meet up with Hoggle and the others. He never could figure out how she did it, slipped between his world and hers, only hearing about it afterwards when the goblins got to gossiping with the worms and pixies that huddled along the wall when she visited.

Now, it was payback - for all the years she’d tormented him with humiliation, never once coming to see him, like she didn’t care at all when he hated to admit he did, very much so - but staring at her now, all he could do was sigh and lean against the back of the chair.

She was asleep in a lounge chair, half dressed, her thighs peaking out from a blanket that had fallen from her lap. By her outstretched hands was his book, the same she’d used to summon him, but was surprised him the most was the letter she’d been trying to write but had stopped for some reason. He couldn’t look at her face, at the dried tears and mussed hair, but what he could see was the first three words to her letter that was addressed to him.

‘I’m so sorry.’

Sorry? She was sorry? He blinked, feeling horribly exposed and torn. Sorry about what? She surely couldn’t be sorry she had hurt him, could she?

Hearing the creatures he’d allowed to accompany him giggle and begin to undo her hard work and steal some of her fruit, he banished them with a mere thought and sighed again, reaching down and scooping her up into his lap and settling into the chair.

She was so tired, she barely stirred. Playing with her hair, he stared at her intently, frowning as he traced her cheek with a gloved finger. He’d never told anyone how he felt, what it had been like when she’d won, how much it hurt to see her visit the Labyrinth but not him.

“I’m sorry, too,” he finally murmured, realizing it was true. He was sorry he’d been a coward thus far and refused to see her, go to her, when he could have - but not anymore. Kissing the top of her head, he settled in, holding her close, and figured in the morning they’d tell their stories and make things right once and for all - but right now, he was tired, she was here, and he wanted to hold her.

Pulling her close, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Sarah noticed when she woke up was she wasn’t aching in all the wrong places. She felt--comfortable. Rolling her head on her shoulders, she yawned and blinked, wiping at her face, feeling something tickling her nose. Frowning and batting at it, she looked over at the offending item, wondering if some of the tinsel from yesterday hadn’t gotten stuck in her hair -- when she froze.

There, slumped in the chair she had fallen asleep on, doing her best to finally get off her ass and write the letter she’d been meaning to write for nearly a decade now, was the Goblin King. He was still asleep, head tilted to rest on her shoulder, and she realized it had been his hair tickling her nose.

Eyes widening, she looked down, noting that he’d cradled her in his lap, tucking the blanket she’d haphazardly thrown across her lap tightly around her. Heat suffused her cheeks, knowing she had taken off everything but her panties and the gold sweater she still wore -- who knew that hanging up Christmas ornaments was so exhausting? -- but the longer she watched him sleep, the more her anxiety eased. Her eyes darted about, seeing no one else around, and then she saw the note she’d started, set aside on the side table that housed her well-worn book, and knew he’d seen it and...what? Chosen to stay?

Frowning, she reached up, stretching a hand towards his face, then hesitated, trying to gather her thoughts. What was she supposed to say? Sighing, deciding she’d figure it out as she went along, she once more reached up, gently stroking Jareth’s cheek as she murmured his name.

“Jareth…”

He stirred, tilting his head, but quickly falling back asleep after he tucked her closer, his arms tightening, then dropped his head further into the crook of her shoulder. She smiled, relaxing, realizing he was tired, but one thing was certain.

She had to pee.

“Jareth…” She murmured, gently nudging his shoulder.

Suddenly, he stiffened and bolted awake, crushing her to him. “Ow,” she muttered, the sound muffled in his shoulder, from where his hands gripped her thighs a little too tightly. Briefly, she wriggled, hearing his grunt of surprise, then almost instantly his hands released her and she was straddling him. She schooled the heat out of her cheeks when she felt him - all of him - considering it was morning and well, now they’d seen each other at their worst.

Lifting her head, she smiled, smoothing her hair, which she knew most likely resembled a rat's nest or a pissed off cat. He simply stared, face expressionless, as she did her best to appear unphased that his body’s morning reactions was grinding into her ass and her bladder was screaming. “Hey. Want some coffee?”

Jareth simply blinked. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, coffee. After I comb my hair, use the bathroom, and put on some pants.” Sarah replied, chuckling and tilting her head to the side.

With that, Jareth’s eyes lowered, taking in her appearance, and she calmly sat there, ignoring her rising pulse. She was a grown ass woman, sitting on top of a fairy king’s morning wood, so if he wanted to tease her about something stupid, he better be prepared to get as good as he gave.

“I could...use some coffee and a toilet,” he finally muttered back.

She grinned and chuckled, pressing a fast kiss to his cheek before she rose and muttered where the guest bathroom was before wandering off to the master suite - her room - leaving him staring stunned at her backside as she went.

 

* * *

 

Later, breakfast was a terse affair. Jareth was back to being surly, she was back to having an annoying sense of overthinking, and not much was said as they cooked. Working together, they quickly made eggs, bacon, toast and coffee, then took their meal and sat across from one another in her little kitchenette, picking at their food.

“So,” Sarah started, finally feeling like herself after most of her first cup of coffee was consumed, watching him give her a lingering stare over his own mug. “What brings you here?”

“I came last night to...visit. You were asleep.”

“So you thought...what? I needed a Goblin King mattress to help me catch some Z’s?”

Jareth sat down his coffee cup, scowling. “I’ll have you know…”

“It was sweet,” she interrupted him, knowing she’d purposefully baited him, so comfortable with rising to the slightest provocation, rather than just admitting how she felt, and barreled past his obvious deflection, too unwilling to admit why he’d stayed and draped her across his lap. “I’m glad you came. You saw my letter, I take it.”

“Yes, all three words of it,” Jareth replied, not quite willing to give up his snarky comebacks, narrowing his eyes.

Sarah sighed, drained the remnants of her coffee with a swallow, then stood. Jareth’s eyes briefly widened and he sat up sharply, opening his mouth to no doubt apologize and draw her back to the table, but she’d had enough - talking clearly wasn’t the answer, all they ever did was fight.

Turning, she shoved him back in his seat, straddled him and grasped onto his hair with tense fingers, then tugged his mouth to hers. It took Jareth all of two seconds to figure out what she was doing - briefly going stiff, then groaning and savagely continuing what she started.

_Jesus fuck, finally. I am sick and goddamn tired of fighting you, Goblin King._

His hands were everywhere - palming her ass, snaking under her shirt to grasp and squeeze her breasts and pinch lightly on her nipples, working the buttons of her pants loose. She sighed, moaning when one hand slipped past her navel, underneath the pants she’d put on after using the facilities, briskly rubbing and then sinking inside her folds.

Just to return the favor, she rocked her hips as she sat up, feeling Jareth shudder underneath her as she both rode his fingers and teased the return of a very promising erection against her backside.

“Sweet Danu, Sarah, if you keep doing that, I’ll---” He muttered, his head rolling back as his eyes squeezed shut, his free hand dropping from her breast to her hip, trying to slow the roll of her hips while the other moved in soft pumping actions inside her.

“Or you’ll what? Fuck me? Bring it on, Goblin King,” She challenged, watching his eyes snap open and stare into hers, a dark penetrating expression suddenly suffusing his face.

Almost immediately, he was standing, holding her against him with strength she didn’t realize he possessed, shoving their meal off the table. She heard the shatter of dishes, the splatter of food, but she didn’t care, wriggling her hips as he removed his fingers, ripped her pants and panties off in one vicious tear, then undid his own buckles, sliding his pants down, then gripped her knees, widening them as he drug her to the edge of the table, and shoved forward.

She gasped, her head falling back as he gripped her, thrusting hard and fast, shoving her sweater up, his mouth taking hold of her breasts. Each grinding movement of his hips drew her closer, making her pant harder, and before she realized it, she could hear herself begging him for release.

He snarled, making her beg harder, and when she was halfway to tears, he leaned up, commanded she stare into his face while he fucked her, then drug his fingers over her clit repeatedly while he moved -- and everything exploded.

Shrieking, screaming until she was hoarse, she died and was reborn, vaguely feeling him slow as he shouted his own release, heat blanketing her insides.

Just as quickly, silence descended in the room, and she heard his pants from where he laid sprawled across her, torso pressed against hers, his head buried between her breasts.

Slowly, his head lifted, eyes meeting hers. She said nothing, watching wariness and hope clash all at once, and couldn’t help but throw him a bone, giving him a bright grin and then bringing his mouth close to hers. "That all you got?"

He smiled back, kissed her, then dragged her into the bedroom. "Bad choice of words, precious."

She giggled all the way down the hall until he was once more moving inside her, having shoved her on the bed, the laugh turning to a moan.


End file.
